A Little Bit of Spit Up, or How He Loves

I just walked into the bathroom and caught a look at myself in the mirror.  My blue shirt has the familiar discoloration of baby spit up.  It reminded me of when my oldest son was a newborn and I took him to Starbucks with me to collect a paycheck.  The girls I worked with couldn’t stop talking about how cute he was because he was “so little” and “adorable”.  Then a funny thing happened.  He spit up.  They were grossed out because this little baby spit up some of the milk he’d had just before we left the house.  I landed on my shirt, my arm, and my hands and I proceeded to clean him up and clean myself up before heading back home.

As I looked curiously at the stain reflected in the mirror, still unsure when that occurred, the Holy Spirit reminded me of something I thought I’d share with you all.  God is a Father who loves us, his children.  He loves deeper and more perfectly than I could ever love all three of my boys.  And when we say or do the stupid things that we say and do on a daily basis, it’s like we’re spitting up all over Him.

He doesn’t get grossed out by it, he doesn’t hold us at a distance because we’re nasty; he brings us closer to him, wipes us up, feeds us again, and takes the same joy in us that he had before we spit up.

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